Klavier Lounge
by BlackWindButterfly
Summary: The Klavier Lounge is known for two things, its beer and its new pianist, Roderich Edelstein. His new job has him adjusting to all sorts of people including the two brothers who own the business, Ludwig and Gilbert Beilschmidt. Human AU. Various Pairings.
1. The Piano Man and Other Staff

As he descended down the stairs, the thick smell of cigarette smoke and a horrid mixture of cologne and perfume wafted up to assault his nose. His nose crinkled and his glasses were pushed a bit up his face before returning to sit as they were on the bridge of his nose. Roderich followed the rail with his hands until he was finally underground, inside the bar.

The two waiters were taking the upturned seats of the tables and sliding them down for when the bar finally opened. Behind the counter, an albino stood cleaning the glasses. His crimson eyes followed Roderich and he snickered lightly, doing a poor job of trying to hide the action. This made the brunette's lips slant as he walked onto the stage toward his piano. He sat down on the bench and started to warm up using a simple scale. The sleek black instrument cried out in pain, screaming in sharp tones. Roderich cringed before turning to look back at the bar. The bartender that had been there moments before seemed to have ducked out of his sight.

"Gilbert!" he roared, storming off stage toward the bar.

Hearing his name, he poked his head up and laughed. "Kesesesese~ Like what I did, Specs? It's a whole lot easier to hear now, right?" Gilbert asked.

Roderich nearly reached over to cuff him. He had mentioned to the manager last night that he did not feel the music was carrying correctly and he had asked for a microphone of sorts since redesigning the walls with better acoustics was an outrageous request. "The piano is a musical instrument, not a toy for your personal amusement!" he growled.

"Seemed to amuse you enough so I'd figured I would give it a shot. Guess I don't have the same relationship with her," Gilbert told him with another laugh.

Seeing the fist come down, he ducked in surprise, his eyes growing wide. He lifted his head up again to see furry in the violet orbs that stared back at him. The fist had not been aimed at him, but it had fiercely hit the counter top. Following the arm though, he could see that it was not Roderich who had slammed a fist against the counter. No, the sharply dressed piano man had both of his arms crossed over his chest. The owner of the fist was a tall blonde man with his hair slicked back in complete order. His outer appearance reflected how he planned to run his establishment. "Oh, hey, West," Gilbert greeted his brother with a large grin.

The icy blue eyes that glared at him narrowed more. "Vat did you do this time?" he asked in his thick German accent.

"I was just playing the piano," his brother answered. He tried to seem as innocent as possible, but there was a clear mischievousness in his face that, near permanent on his features, could not be hidden.

"It needs tuned again thanks to him," Roderich told Ludwig.

The manager sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was not an easy task to tune a piano and with no experience himself, he would have to call someone to do it the next morning. He had just lost his entertainment for the evening and most likely a fair amount of money. "I'm sorry," Ludwig apologized for his brother. "You can take the evening off if you vould like or your velcome to stay here..."

"You can help the awesome me run the bar tonight," Gilbert said as he reached over the bar to wrap an arm around Roderich's head as if he were either giving him an awkward hug or preparing to give him a nuggie.

Pushing the arm away from him and slipping under it, the piano man shook his head. "I would rather not..."

"Then you can always help Feli and Lovi."

"Again, no."

"Your loss," Gilbert told him with a shrug as he went back to cleaning the glasses.

Seeing as Roderich was prepared to leave, Ludwig no longer saw a reason to stay around to babysit his brother.

He walked out of the room and headed for his office in the back. A few people had already strolled into the bar. There were maybe four in total, counting the two that were headed straight for the bar. One of them was a blonde Frenchman and the other was a dark haired Spaniard. They were both friends of Gilbert's and they came nearly every night. Both of them came to stand in front of the bar as they greeted their friend.

"Roddy! It's so good to see you," the Spaniard known as Antonio said with a wave. He slipped into one of the stools in front of the bar. The bartender had already slid him a foaming mug of beer, the very kind that the bar was known for. All of the beer was German import and it was one of the many reasons people bothered to stop in.

"You're not leaving are you?" Francis, the Frenchman, asked, frowning some as he gazed at Roderich. The pianist nodded before he was pulled down to sit along with Francis. "Join us for ze evening, _mon cher_?" He offered an unnecessary wink at the end of his statement as he gazed at him.

With a sigh, he conceded and sat with them. Gilbert grinned widely as he slipped Francis a glass of wine and then gave a mug of beer to Roderich. "Glad you could join us."

The pianist let out a snort before he lifted the glass to his lips. He took a small sip before setting the glass back down. He listened to the three of them talk, not actually interested in the conversation himself. After a few more sips of the drink, he was near prepared to leave, but found one of the waiters had boxed him in.

"What are you bastards doing here again?" the Italian muttered with a glare as he set his tray on the counter along with a slip of paper that had a few drink orders on it.

"Ah, Lovi~ It's so good to see you," Antonio told him with a smile.

"Go the hell home. You're here every night. Don't you lazy asses have jobs?"

"_Si_. I finish there before I come here."

Lovino grunted, not saying anything more as he picked up his now filled tray. He walked off then toward the few filled tables to give customers their orders. Antonio watched him for a few moments before turning back around to take a sip of his beer.

Francis paused in his own drinking as he pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette that was perched between his lips. Once it caught flame, he pocketed the lighter as he took a deep drag from it. He pulled it out before exhaling, the cloud of smoke drifting through the air before disappearing somewhere in the air of the bar. Roderich fanned what drifted in his direction away from himself before he attempted to slip over a seat. An arm snaked around his shoulder though, keeping him in place. The Frenchman smiled lightly as he jerked Roderich toward him. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth once more, he blew more smoke before releasing him and going back to his conversation with Gilbert and Antonio.

An hour later and the pianist had finally made it to his second glass. He had not intended on staying there, but every time he attempted to leave, someone stopped him be it intentional or not. There was a sea of wine glasses surrounding him to the right as Francis had already made it through most of the bottle.

"I trust things are in order..." Ludwig said as he came to stand behind Roderich. His gaze was directed mainly at his brother.

"_Ja,_ ship shape, cap'n," Gilbert told him with a mock salute as he poured Antonio another mug.

Without another word, the manager slid into the seat next to Roderich. His brother slid him over his own towering pint of beer before going to make drinks for some of the other customers.

"Luddy!" a high voice called as the other waiter approached the bar. His tray was full of empty glasses from one table in particular. The auburn haired young man set his tray down before embracing his boss in a hug. "It'sa so good to see you."

"Feliciano," Ludwig said, cheeks taking on a light tinge of pink. Ever since he had stopped a rowdy customer from harming him, the Italian had been rather attached to him. He moved to try and pull the boy's arms off, but Feliciano pulled away after being told all the drinks were ready.

"Aw...'e's so cute," Francis mused, not making it clear who he meant as he gazed at Ludwig even after the Italian boy had left.

Gilbert laughed. "West says he's a handful," he joked with his brother, who apparently did not find the jest as amusing. Ludwig took to sipping his beer until he heard loud shouts from the table that Feliciano was currently serving. A blonde man with rather thick eyebrows was yelling at him in a rather thick slur. Sighing, the manager walked over to the table before kindly escorting the man out. Once that chore was done, he forgot all about his drink and retreated back to his own quarters.

* * *

><p>"Catch you guys later," Gilbert called after Antonio and Francis as they headed up the stairs. He began to clean off the counter then and put away the clean glasses. Roderich still sat at the bar with him, his second beer nearly empty in his hand. His nose and cheeks were a light red and his eyes seemed a bit glossy.<p>

"You all right, Specs?" the albino asked as he leaned forward to get a better look at his friend.

"_Ja, perfekt_," Roderich answered with a light smile.

"Oi! West! I think someone is gonna have to escort Roddy here out or else he might hurt himself..."

After dismissing the two waiters, Ludwig turned to look at his brother and the man who now had his head resting on the counter. He sighed again and shook his head. "Zere are some tings zat need done here. Take him home yourself."

Gilbert grumbled a few choice words under his breath in his native tongue before walking around the bar to the outside. Without much trouble, he was able to tuck his head under Roderich's arm so that he could bear his weight and carry him outside. He found some trouble once he had hit the steps. When he finally made it to the top, the albino grunted with relief. Roderich seemed to be mumbling a few random phrases, none of them intelligible.

Sounding a loud and sharp whistle, Gilbert hailed them both a cab. Through some peeking around in Ludwig's paperwork, he knew where it was that the pianist lived. He gave the driver the address before the man took off. His rubies wondered to the window as he watched the bright lights pass by.

He jolted a bit as a head slumped on his shoulder. Turning to the right, he could see that Roderich had slumped over in the seat next to him. He kept the other there even after he found himself being cuddled against as if he were some type of pillow.

"Lush," Gilbert muttered with a shake of his head. He knew how many drinks the piano man had and he found it hard to believe that he was near to passing out.

"_Nein_, I'm not..." Roderich muttered, eyes cracking open a bit.

"Go back to sleep," the albino told him with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

In a little under ten minutes, the two found themselves at the apartment building that housed the pianist. Gilbert offered Roderich a hand after he stepped out of the cab. Roderich pushed the hand aside. "I...I can stand up on my own," he protested.

"Yeah, just like you can hold your beer, priss," Gilbert countered as he clutched his hand in his own and pull him up before leading him through the building. Roderich gave him rather poor directions in his drunken state, but eventually got them both there to his room. He handed the albino his keys, knowing now at this point that he would not be able to open the door.

After turning the key in the lock, Gilbert motioned for Roderich to walk in. The pianist nearly stumbled to the floor so the bartender was forced to help him stand and guide him over to his own bed. "_Guten nacht_, Roddy," Gilbert called after Roderich had curled up under his covers.

"_Danke...und guten nacht_, Gilbert..." Roderich said in return. His eyes fell closed as he heard his door slam shut behind his friend.

* * *

><p>Translation Notes:<p>

_Klavier_ - Piano

_mon cher _- my dear (male)

_Si _- Yes

_Ja _- Yes

__perfekt __- perfect

__Nein__ - No

___Guten nacht ___- Good night

____Danke...und ____- Thank you...and

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

Finally, I have this written. For a two weeks awhile back, I had the song Piano Man by Billy Joel stuck in my head. It made me picture Roddy working at a bar and the different people who would play the other roles there and thus this story was born. I have obviously tweaked the idea a bit and made it my own to bring you_ Klavier Lounge_. I hope this chapter doesn't seem to choppy to anyone, but I wanted to make sure that I was able to fit in all the characters you would be seeing constantly as well as possibly set up a few of the couples. I hope it doesn't look like I'm trying too hard with this or that any of the characters are out of character. I constantly worry about that happening in my works. I also hope that I didn't assault you with too many other language phrases. I translated them all though and will continue to do so.

Any reviews, praise or hate, would be appreciated.~ Have a suggestion for something that might happen in the bar or something you would like to see happen between the couples? Go ahead and put that into the review too.~


	2. The Piano Man and the Shambles

The morning sunlight peeked in through the curtains. It traveled up the sheets of the blanket as time went on before eventually falling on the brunette's face. He groaned loudly, turning his head to the side as he reached for his glasses before slipping them on. Opening his violet eyes, Roderich set a hand to his throbbing head. His phone on the bedside table rang and he instantly recoiled at the sound. Using the same hand that he had been using to massage his left temple, he blocked the harsh light from hitting his eyes as he hit the button on the phone that allowed him to talk.

"Roderich?" the female voice on the other hand answered.

"_Ja...Grüß Gott_, Elizabeta..." he replied, pulling the phone away from his ear a bit.

There was a pause on the other end as the woman bit her lip and her eyebrows knitted together. She could tell that there was a certain drowsiness as well as a certain irritability in his tone. "Are you all right?" Elizabeta finally asked after the short silence.

"_Nein_..._Ich bin nicht gut_," Roderich answered. He winced a bit as the sun made it passed his visor.

"Roderich...you're not speaking English."

"Ah...I apologize." With his currently cluttered mind, he find it hard to speak in his second tongue. He was an Austrian native and thus he spoke fluent German for a majority of his life before moving to America only recently.

"It's fine...want me to come over?"

"I will be all right..."

"What about our da-" Elizabeta started, only to find out that he had already hung up on her. She grunted as she hung up as well, crossing her arms.

Setting the phone back on the receiver, Roderich curled up under the covers. He was attempting to muffle all sound and block all sunshine from reaching him as his head continued to pound. There was a certain uncomfortable raise of nausea in his stomach and he immediately threw the covers off himself. His feet padded against the soft carpet before taking him to the bathroom where he promptly vomited once over the porcelain bowl of his toilet. He sighed before leaning his head back and pushing up his glasses, thankful that he did not lose them in the process.

* * *

><p>From within the bathroom, Roderich heard a knock at the door. It had only been about an hour since the nausea had first begun. He leaned back against the tiled wall with a dry mouthed sigh as he heard the door open. The same woman who had called him that morning shouted his name as she inquired where he was.<p>

"You're a mess!" Elizabeta said in horror as she looked down at him. She pulled up the skirt of her dress so that it would not crumple beneath her as she knelled down next to him, green eyes staring deeply into his bloodshot ones. "How many drinks did you have?"

He weakly held up two fingers before he felt himself grow ill once again. "Roderich!" she scolded in her distress as he leaned over the toilet bowl again. There was nothing this time. She flanked him at his side. "You're such a lightweight." She set a hand to his back and rubbed it gently against it. Unfortunately, her touch had startled him and caused him to jolt. There was a soft splash as his glasses fell off his face and into the luckily empty toilet water.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Elizabeta reached into the bowl and pulled out the spectacles. A few water droplets fell of them and onto her skirt before she stood up. She ran them under some hot water after applying a light dosing of soap. He took them as they were handed back to him, dry now. The soap had created an almost invisible film on the lenses that hurt his eyes even more as he squinted to focus. He took them off and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve before using his shirt to wipe them off again. Neither of the actions did much to help.

Finally giving up, he trudged out of the bathroom after much insisting from Elizabeta before he crawled back into bed. Roderich pulled the covers up over his head again and soon fell fast asleep. His girlfriend stayed and watched him for awhile, just to make sure that he would truly be all right before she would leave. Curtains now shut and door locked, Elizabeta exited the apartment building.

* * *

><p>Once evening had rolled around, the two German brothers entered the bar that they had inherited through their grandfather's will. They made sure to unlock all the doors again, having opened it all up previously that day so that the piano tuner could preform his duties. It had not cost them nearly as much as Ludwig had expected for the man to come in and do so.<p>

Before the younger brother retreated back to his office, he slipped into one of the stools around the bar. Gilbert brought out two mugs and filled them to the brim. They each took one, clinking them together before drinking. It was almost a ritual as they did this about every night.

"See ya, West," the albino called as his brother stood up. Ludwig offered him a wave from over his shoulder before disappearing in the back room.

A few minutes after he had gone, the Italian brothers strolled into the bar. Feliciano grinned at the bartender as he babbled on for a few minutes. His older brother cut him off though with a shout before dragging him off to help set up.

"Oi! Roddy!" Gilbert called as Roderich came down the stairs to join them. He waved the other over, grinning like a madman as he did so. Although he was likely to regret it, the pianist walked over. "So how was your morning? Kesesesese~"

"That is none of your business," Roderich told him with a scoff. He adjusted his bow-tie before preparing to turn around.

"Not so high and mighty now, eh?"

"Gilbert, silence yourself."

"For such a snob, you're pretty cheap. The way you act, I expected you to live in a mansion, Specs. All I saw was a cruddy apartment."

This seemed to gain Roderich's attention. He spun around to glance at Gilbert, his face a light shade of red. Slowly, the pieces came together in his mind. He had wondered who had taken him home last night, but of all people, he had not thought that it had been the bartender. Nervously pushing up his glasses, Roderich tried to explain. "I like saving money..."

"Reminds me. You never paid for your drinks last night," the bartender said with a victorious smirk.

Roderich rolled his eyes, but nevertheless pulled the required amount of money out of his pocket. He set it on the counter before taking off toward his piano. The brunette sat down on the bench and began to warm up. It sang beautifully, perfectly on key this evening. A brief smile came to his features as his fingers darted across the keys. He cast a glance out toward the patrons as they filtered in. Antonio and Francis were of this group and his eyes followed them as they sat in front of Gilbert. The bartender caught his gaze and grinned. It was that grin that boiled Roderich's blood and he soon slipped into his first piece of the night. He was never one to take out his problems physically or vent in a word battle. The only way he knew how to express any sign of pure emotion was through the piano. Slender fingers took to a rapid pace as he hammered out Mozart's eleventh Sonata in A Major.

* * *

><p>"Taking your break early tonight, <em>mi amigo<em>?" Antonio asked as he glanced at the dark haired waiter. Lovino had taken a seat at the bar beside the "Bad Touch Trio" as they were often called.

"He just wanted an excuse to talk to the awesome me," Gilbert cut in.

"I only took this damn job to watch you Krauts," the Italian growled. "I don't want anything to happen to my dumb ass of a little brother."

"How cute~" the Spaniard mused. He smiled absently as the disgruntled Italian began to chew him out. After taking a nonchalant sip of his beer, Antonio pulled Lovino into a hug. Lovino's face flared a bright red as he tried to free himself.

"Let me go, you bastard!"

Antonio nuzzled his cheek. "Aww, Lovi, you looked like you needed a hug."

"This is sexual harassment!" Lovino roared.

"But we already went out once~"

The Italian set a rough hand to his cheek as he tried with little success to push Antonio away. His face had heated to a greater color. They _had_ already gone out once, but it had been a private ordeal that Lovino did not feel needed to be announced in front of the Spaniard's friends.

Both Gilbert and Francis laughed at the two of them. The latter clapped a bit as if to congratulate them while the former shook his head. "Let him go, Toni. His break's over already," Gilbert told him.

Sighing in defeat, Antonio let Lovino go. The waiter scrambled to grab his tray before he hurried off to take care of one of the other customers. As he walked by, the Spaniard slipped a piece of paper into his back pocket before continuing to chat with his friends.

"I'm almost jealous," Francis said as he set his chin in his palm, his elbow propped up on the bar.

"Like you ever have reason to be jealous," Gilbert replied.

"_Oui_. I suppose your right," the French native said with a smile. He rarely had a night where he left the bar without a woman or the occasional man on his arm. "What about you?"

The albino snorted. "I'm awesome enough that I don't need anyone."

* * *

><p>Closing time roll around as usual. Each person took to cleaning up their stations while Ludwig came out to shoo off any of those who had yet to leave. Antonio and Francis were two of these someones along with the girl that was at the Frenchman's arm. They bid the bartender goodbye before wondering up the stairs.<p>

Roderich caught hold of the black shield above the piano keys before pulling it out and closing it over them. He stood up from his bench then and walked down stage. It had been a wonderful performance that evening and the piano had sounded marvelous. His venting had put him in a better mood. He found himself almost smiling as he exited the bar.

A loud chorus of sirens broke through the silence of the cool night air. Two firetrucks went blazing down the street before making sharp turns around the corner. In the far distance, a plume of smoke could be seen towering above the various buildings of the small city. Roderich frowned, but did not think much about it.

The cell phone in his pocket vibrated, startling him. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out before flipping it open. After hitting the center button on his phone, it brought up the message that had been sent to him by Elizabeta. Her typing had been frantic, which was made clear by the several typos that appeared throughout it. In amongst her ramblings, one phrase stood out. It made his violet eyes widen in sheer shock. Two police cars and an ambulance passed by as he stared at the message in horror. His apartment was the building that had caught flame.

* * *

><p>TranslationNotes:

_Klavier_ - Piano

_Ja _- Yes

_Grüß Gott _- God's Greeting (This is a common and formal greeting in southern Germany and Austria.)

_Nein _- No

_Ich bin nicht gut - _I am not well. (Literally translates to "I am not good".)

_mi amigo _- my friend

_Oui _- Yes

* * *

><p>I doubt many people will recognize the piece Mozart: Sonata No. 11 in A Major by name to know what it sounds like so here is a link (minus the spaces):<p>

http:/ www .youtube. com / watch? v=BjZH1_ rvoPw& feature=player _ embedded #at=16

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

By popular demand, I give you the second chapter. I was incredibly happy to hear that there are people who looked forward to it. For those of you who requested events so far, I hope that I met your expectations. If not, I am very sorry. I'll try to make it up to you in further chapters.

Hungover Roderich was very fun to write about. I love how much of a lightweight he is. Even his girlfriend says that he is one, but then again, this is Elizabeta. She strikes me as the type of woman who drinks enough to put some men to shame. SpaMano is official now. It's my first time writing for this pairing and I'm fairly proud of it. Antonio never fails to please. I have also added what I guess could be considered a conflict as Roderich's apartment is on fire...Sorry, Roddy. I'll find someone for you to stay with. Kesesesese~

Any reviews, praise or hate, would be appreciated. (Seriously, they're part of the reason I had this chapter up so fast.) If you have a suggestion for something you want to happen, throw it into a review.~


	3. The Piano Man and His New Residence

Roderich awoke with a sigh as he rolled over on the uncomfortable couch he had spent the night on. It had made for an erratic sleep pattern, but it substituted one night for a bed well. The pianist shifted on the stiff cushions before sitting up. He plucked his glasses from the nearby table and put them on to sharpen his vision.

Last night, Roderich returned to the extinguished fire and the shambles of his apartment building via taxi. He overheard a small group of people exchanging the rumors of what had happened as he had started to push through the crowd to inquire about the cause of the fire himself. While pausing to listen, he caught one woman blame it on the old building's faulty wiring. Another woman said the flame started when a cigarette hit a person's bedsheets . Her husband disagreed, claiming a kitchen fire had destroyed the complex. Roderich never found out the true reason.

Elizabeta met up with him a sort time later. She and her family sympathized with her boyfriend and thus offered him a place to stay for the night. He agreed to spend the evening on her couch as he did not want to impose on the Héderváry family home. This chain of events lead to how Roderich now found himself.

As he peeled back the blanket he had borrowed from them and placed his feet on the floor, the smell of eggs and bacon filled his nostrils. He entered the kitchen to find Mrs. Héderváry stirring scrambled eggs in a sizzling skillet.

"Good morning, Roderich," Elizabeta greeted with a smile from her seat at the table.

"Good morning, Elizabeta," he said in return. Turning to Mrs. Héderváry, he bowed his head politely. "Thank you for allowing me to spend the night here."

"You're quite welcome," she replied.

Roderich seated himself at the dining room next to Elizabeta as Mrs. Héderváry began to serve the food. She sat down two plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him and her daughter before placing one adjacent to them that she then sat behind.

The three of them conversed while they ate their breakfast. They spoke of troubles at work, at home, and the other major occurrences at the time.

* * *

><p>His long and slender fingers traveled across the buttons of his phone as Roderich again dialed the number for Klavier Lounge, the bar that he worked at. He heard it ring on the other end before receiving a signal that told him the line was busy. After hanging up, he then checked the time. It was 11:30 AM which meant that he would have to try again later after his shift at Ford Music Store was over.<p>

* * *

><p>"Well, you're kinda late there, aren't ya, priss?" Gilbert asked from behind the bar. He leaned forward on crossed arms to glance at the distraught pianist in front of him. Antonio and France turned to look at Roderich as well.<p>

"Ah, yes. May I ask where your brother is?" Roderich said.

Francis pointed over toward one of the booths. "_Oui_. 'e is over zere with Feliciano."

Roderich nodded his thanks before he strode for the booth. Ludwig was seated with a handsomely frothy full pint of beer in front of him. Feliciano chatted animatedly to him, his arms waving frantically as he talked. His tray sat on the edge of the table. Seeing Roderich, Ludwig looked up passed Feliciano at the piano man.

"Sorry to intrude," Roderich cut in.

Feliciano beamed at him and waved despite having been interrupted. Ludwig nodded. "Vat is it zat you need?"

"It is about my tardiness. I was searching for a new apartment after mine burned down yesterday," Roderich explained.

"Aw! That's really sad! Did you find one?" Feliciano asked, arms waving up and down.

Roderich shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I will have to venture out again tomorrow."

"Luddy, don't you have extra room at your house?" The Italian tilted his head to the side.

"_Ja_, but-" Ludwig started.

"Then it's-a settled. Mr. Edelstein can stay at your house~" Feliciano exclaimed.

Ludwig opened his mouth to argue, but after a few seconds of staring at his waiter, he sighed and nodded. "You can stay. I vill just take ze rent out of your pay."

Roderich stared at Ludwig flabbergasted. He was not even going to ask if he could stay with the German, but it seemed that the decision had already been made for him. He thanked Ludwig before taking his place on stage behind the piano.

"Whipped~" Gilbert called at his brother from the bar.

Antonio laughed before nodding. "_Si~_ And they're not even dating."

Ludwig blushed furiously. He turned his head so that his older brother could not see his face before he took a sip of his beer. Feliciano simply smiled. He wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck in a hug. The waiter let a shade of pink dust his own cheeks before he whispered something in his manger's ear. Ludwig's azure eyes widened and he nearly choked as he set down his drink. He pounded a fist against his chest before taking a gasping inhale. "_J-ja_," he stuttered to answer Felicano's question.

The Bad Touch Trio roared with laughter. "Zey are now," Francis purred, much to Ludwig's dismay.

* * *

><p>Setting down the bag filled with old clothes that Mr. Héderváry had given him along with a few other supplies that he bought from a nearby dollar store, Roderich knocked on the white wooden door of Ludwig's home. He heard a gruff reply from the other end say, "Coming,"before the door opened. Ludwig started down at Roderich for a moment before stepping to the side to let him in. Roderich picked up his plastic bags before nodding his head in thanks. "Thank you again for allowing me to stay here...and for giving me directions over the phone," he mumbled.<p>

"It vas no problem...You are velcome," Ludwig said. He wondered what it was that had taken Roderich so long to arrive there. Elizabeta's home was not that far from his own. When he was younger and visited his grandfather, who owned the house at the time, he often remembered seeing the Hungarian girl. He decided not to pry though and let the matter go.

Ludwig gave Roderich a tour of the house. Roderich set down his bags on the bed of the guest room, now his room, before following Ludwig back into the hallway. Ludwig's room was across from his own and in the same general area, there was a set of stairs that lead downward to the basement. There was a loud vibrating hum and then a loud shout from the floor below. Ludwig sighed before heading down the carpeted stairs. Roderich hesitantly followed him into the room. It was a refurbished basement that had been fashioned into a bedroom. In the middle of the room, there was a couch and an average size flat-screen television. Seeing who was on the couch, Roderich nearly gasped. No one had told him that Gilbert lived with Ludwig.

Said albino was sitting on the couch, a headset strapped to his ears and a wireless black remote control in his hands. It had a variety of buttons on it of all different sizes and shapes as well as two control sticks. In the center was the logo of the company, an X. A green slit around it was lit up to show that Gilbert was the first and only player. On the television screen, there seemed to be an abandoned building and grotesque figures moving about inside it, their skin rotted and decayed. They were in war uniforms. A stream of German was being shouted in the background before a stream of English spoken in a Russian accent was heard as well. Before Ludwig had a chance to tell Gilbert to turn his game down, Roderich spoke up, "What in God's name are you playing?"

Gilbert paused his game to turn around and look at Roderich. "Black Ops." The pianist blinked a few times, making it clear he had no idea what that was. "I'm shooting Nazi zombies."

"Nazi zombies...?"

"Yeah, you know, members of Hitler's political party during World War Two...known for killing the Jews...but undead..."

"I know what a Nazi is!" Roderich snapped much like an agitated cat.

The albino laughed before sitting forward again and restarting his game. He started to shoot a few of the zombies, making clean head shots. "Hey Franny, Tonio, where are you guys?" he asked into the headset.

"Francis and Antonio are playing with you?" the pianist asked.

"Yeah, they have off work to – HEY!" Gilbert shouted as the television was turned down. A muffled voice could be heard through his headphones, but due to his shouting, he could not hear what it was the person had said.

"It vas too loud," Ludwig told him before heading upstairs.

His older brother slanted his lips before turning up the television again as soon as Ludwig was up the stairs. He asked his question into the headset again after explaining how Ludwig had turned down the volume. His friend's laughed before telling him that they were up the stairs. Gilbert knew exactly where they were then.

"Are you going to stand there or are you gonna play?" he asked Roderich.

"I will pass," Roderich said with a 'hmph'. He turned around then and headed up the stairs to return to his room so that he could unpack.

"Your loss~ Kesesese~" Gilbert called after him before shooting another of the Nazi zombies.

* * *

><p>Translation Notes:<p>

_Klavier_ – Piano

_Oui –_ Yes

_Ja_ – Yes

_Si –_ Yes

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

So it took me more than a month to update after I specifically said that I would update fast if you all reviewed. I am incredibly sorry about this. My muse seemed to leave me while I was trying to sort everything out for this chapter and eventually I ended up putting it off for an outrageous amount of time. I again apologize profusely.

Aren't Feliciano and Ludwig just so cute~? I gush; I know, but I really love GerIta. I can honestly see Gilbert claiming that his little brother is whipped though, which I'm sure he could not help but find it more amusing than normal since they weren't dating at that point. I know I do. My favorite part of this chapter has to be the Nazi zombies. I love joking about the game even though I've only ever played it once, but I thought about what Gilbert would do in his free time and immediately had to put that part in.

Any reviews, praise, hate, constructive criticism, will be taken in stride and greatly appreciated. If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear those too so do not be afraid to put that in your review. I was also curious if anyone would want to read about the date that Antonio took Romano on or Feliciano and Ludwig's first date because I would gladly write them as side chapters. Regardless, thank you for reading.


	4. The Other Staff and the Double Date

A jaunty tune came from his closed lips as the auburn haired Italian sorted the laundry. He and his brother had been living together for some time and to maintain the house, they each had their own chores to do. Despite this, Feliciano almost always ended up doing Lovino's chores for him, not that he minded.

Turning a pair of his brother's jeans inside out, he reached a hand into each pocket to make sure that nothing had been left inside. There was almost always something inside at least one pocket of every pair of jeans be it a candy wrapper, a forgotten tip, or a tissue, so Feliciano had learned long ago to check every single one to keep from losing anything of importance to the washer.

When his hand slipped into the back pocket, he felt the rounded edge of a folded piece of paper. Feliciano pulled it out as he let the denim clothing fall to the floor. Unfolding it, he saw a note scribbled within the lines of the paper written by the Spaniard known as Antonio.

"_Fratello!_" Feliciano called excitedly as he hurried up the basement stairs. "_Fratello_, look!"

Lovino turned his gaze from the tomato he had been contently munching on to stare at his brother. The younger Italian was waving his arm so wildly that he found it hard to see what it was that he was holding. "What the hell is it?" he snapped.

"I found a note in your pocket~" Feliciano explained as bounced over to Lovino. "It's from Antonio."

"Gimme that," Lovino growled. He snatched the note out of his brother's grasp before reading it over. Feliciano watched him in eager anticipation for a reaction. Lovino's face heated so that a dusting of rose came to his cheeks. He mumbled something under his breath then as he crumpled the paper and threw it at the garbage can. It hit off the rim before falling to the floor.

"What did you say, Lovino?" Feliciano asked, tiling his head to the side.

"Bastard wants to take me on another stupid date," Lovino said.

Already having read the note over himself, Feliciano beamed at the sappiness that had been carefully penned. Antonio had asked Lovino if he would want to go to the skating rink for their second date. Seeing the cross expression on his brother's face though, the younger brother frowned. "Aren't you going to go?" he asked.

"Hell no! I don't want to be alone with him," Lovino started out shouting before coming to mumble, "And I can't skate..."

"Why not, _Fratello_?"

Lovino opened his mouth to give his reasons for not wanting to go on another date alone with Antonio when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out before looking over the text message. The number was unknown on his phone so he opened up the message to see if the person who sent it might have said who they were. There was no name, but he could clearly tell who had wrote the message. "How did that bastard get my cell phone number?" he roared. "What's he going to do next? Show up at the front door to kidnap me. Damn stalker."

"Ve~ I gave him your number," Feliciano confessed with a smile. "He wanted to ask you, but you were busy. What did he say?"

"Spacy idiot asked when he should pick me up. Did you give him our fucking address too?" Lovino asked, forgetting the fact that they were listed in the phone book under their family name Vargas.

"No."

He sighed before lightly biting his lip. Antonio was obviously waiting for an answer, but he had no idea what to say in return. Lovino wanted to go, but he felt unsure about the whole situation. The fact that he did not know how to skate did not help. If he was not the only one who lacked the knowledge of how to do so, then it might not have been as bad.

His phone vibrated in his hand and he hit a button to bring up the new message. It read, "Ur not nervous r u, lovi?"

Lovino snarled at the phone. His brother stared at him, bewildered by the reaction. Glaring at Feliciano, the older brother slanted his lips. "Feliciano...don't start crying," he growled.

This did little to help Feliciano who had started to sniffle at the fierce command.

"D-don't," Lovino started. His brother was incredibly hard for him to handle when he started to weep uncontrollably. The only way he found to calm him was to hug him and there was no way in hell that Lovino was going to hug Feliciano right now. "D-don't fucking cry...if you do, you can't come with us."

Feliciano brightened instantly. "I can come with you~?"

Lovino nodded begrudgingly. "Yeah. You might as well ask that potato-sucking bastard to come too. At least he'll make a good barrier if anything goes wrong."

"Ve~ _Grazie_." Feliciano embraced his brother in a tight hug.

"Get the hell off me!" Lovino shouted as he pushed him away. He text Antonio back then to tell him that both he and Feliciano would be coming. While he did that, Feliciano called Ludwig to ask if he wanted to come. The German had shyly agreed and told him that he would meet them there.

* * *

><p>"Luddy!" Feliciano called with a widely arced wave from his spot at the skate rental. The girl working behind the counter drew his attention back to her as she set the four wheeled roller skates in front of him. "<em>Grazie~<em>"

He picked up both skates before waiting patiently for Ludwig. The German walked toward the counter before paying for admission as well as the rentals. His large skates were set on the counter with a clatter. After grabbing his, he and Feliciano headed to a place where they could put their skates on.

Lovino fiddled with his own skates. They were heavy on his feet due to the wheels and the white leather like material they were made from kept them stiff. Their old brown strings were short and did not even loop the whole way up through the shoe. He attempted to loop them through, only to give up a few minutes later as he tied them at their current length. Antonio was skating as best he could on the carpet as he waited patiently for Lovino to be ready. He had already been to the rink several times before so it would be no trouble for him.

"You ready~?" Antonio asked as he saw his date stand up.

"Just get on the damn rink already, bastard," Lovino growled.

The Spaniard smiled as he slipped off the carpet and onto the slick wooden floor. With hesitant footsteps, Lovino scooted from the carpet to the wood. Antonio, making it around through his second circle next to Lovino. "I can hold your hand and lead you if you've never skated before~" he suggested.

"I'll stick to the fucking wall. I don't need your help," the Italian snapped back.

Lovino carefully made it to the wall. He set a hand to it before following it around the square. There were points were the wall jutted out in rectangular blocks compared to the rest of the wall, which he often clung to as he quickly grew afraid of losing his balance. The floor was much like a basketball court's and he knew that if he fell he would end up injured both physically and emotionally.

Once Ludwig and Feliciano had their skates on, the former offered the latter a hand. Feliciano's eyes followed the hand up to its owner to see the usually white flesh had turned a furious shade of pink. He beamed before taking the hand. Carefully and still blushing, Ludwig lead the auburn haired Italian out onto the rink. He went to let go, but Feliciano clung to his arm like a lifeline. "Ve~ I've never been skating before," Feliciano declared.

"I...I'll help you," Ludwig told him. He kept hold of Feliciano's hand then.

Feliciano glided for a few seconds before he would stumble to push himself forward again. His foot clapped twice against the ground while he tried to move. He seemed off balance as he slipped forward, but Ludwig had a strong grip on him. When he nearly fell again, Ludwig caught him from behind and held him up before he hit the ground.

"Here...ve'll try zis," the German muttered.

Taking a quick glance behind him to make sure that he would not bump into anyone, Ludwig took both of Feliciano's hands in his. He skated skillfully backward once the coast was clear before he easily maneuvered Feliciano around the circle. Feliciano pushed himself forward as he tried grasp the concept of rolling across the floor. Ludwig kept his pace steady, but seldom looked at Feliciano. His eyes kept falling behind him to see if he was about to bump into anyone, but during the few instances Feliciano could see his face, it was colored an adorable crimson shade. It made the Italian smile in his usual air-headed fashion.

Lovino watched them pass by as he continued to cling to part of the wall. He could not skate in the same direction as the rest of the crowd because there was no wall in the area that he was going to pass through next. Antonio came close before easing to a stop beside him. "Do you need my help, _mi tomate~_?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Shut the fuck up and just take me to the next damn wall," Lovino grumbled.

Despite his foul mouth and poor method of asking, Antonio took up Lovino's hand. He pulled him to the other wall and would have kept hold of him. However, Lovino jerked his hand from Antonio before they were actually next to the wall. He started to glide over to the wall before he lost his balance. His arms waved and managed to stop himself from falling on his face. Lovino skirted over to the wall before once again gluing himself to it as he moved along. Antonio laughed at his date's stubbornness before rolling passed him again as he made a few more circles around the rink.

The stubborn Italian inched his way from the walls for a few more minutes. As Antonio went to pass him for the fourth time though, he called for him, "B-bastard! G-get the over here!"

"Hm?" Antonio said, tilting his head to the side as he came up beside him.

Head turned away from the Spaniard, he hesitantly grabbed hold of his hand. Antonio chuckled again before catching Lovino's meaning. He then started to help him around in the rink. The turns were rough on the Italian, but he seemed to slowly catch on.

* * *

><p>Gilbert opened the door from the basement up to the first floor. He headed back downstairs to collect a few items before returning up the staircase. His headset was strapped to his head again and in his arms, he carried his Xbox 360 with its cord wrapped around it. Two remotes sat on top of the game system. As he walked, he leaned his torso back to keep from dropping anything.<p>

With Ludwig gone on his date, this left the forty-six inch television in the living room that was reserved specifically for "_Fußball_ games" free for the albino's use. Gilbert would be taking full advantage of the fact that his younger brother would be gone for at least two hours.

He carefully set the game system on the couch before picking up the remote as he turned to face the television. It was actually on for once, which was likely Roderich's doing. Curious, Gilbert waited for the commercials to end so that he could see what show the musician had been watching. He heard the narrator start to speak about Beethoven before his face contorted in disgust, his nose scrunching and his eyes narrowing. His finger hit a button on the remote and the screen changed to black.

The albino carefully pulled the television to the side as he plugged in a few of the cords from the 360 into the television for the sound and picture. The last cord was plugged into a nearby outlet for power. He set the game system on the floor in front of the television before tapping the power button. It changed to green as the start-up menu loaded on the television screen.

Footsteps came from the hallway as Roderich exited the bathroom and returned to the living room. He paused upon seeing Gilbert standing in front of the couch with a game remote in hand. The picture on the screen was obviously not from his programming, but from Gilbert's game. Regardless, Roderich scowled, irritated. "What are you doing?"

Gilbert flopped down on the couch with his remote control. His back was hunched and his feet rested on the floor as he stared intently at his game while he set everything up. "Going to play Black Ops. Why? You wanna play?" he asked as he paused to look at the pianist.

"No. I do believe I will pass again," Roderich answered. He crossed his arms.

"Pfft," the albino scoffed, "You just don't wanna suck. Oh well, only awesome people have the skills to play anyway."

"Oh, please, any moron can pick up a game controller and play a video game. If you want a task that requires skill, try playing an instrument."

Gilbert smirked as Roderich took his bait, but he did his best to keep the expression hidden. "Then put your money where your mouth is, cheapskate." He handed the extra remote to Roderich as he finally let his features reveal his mischievousness. "Prove me wrong and play."

"Hmph." Roderich took the remote from the bartender before coming to sit beside him.

"Kesesese~"

The musician stared down at the controller with a frown. There were several buttons on the face as well as on the top of the controller, none of which he had any idea of how to use. If he did not know any better, he would say that he had just been tricked by Gilbert. Although he quickly scolded himself for this thought. There was _no way_ that the albino would ever outsmart him.

"Press the start button," Gilbert told him as he tried to set the game up for two play split screen.

"...which one is that?" Roderich asked.

Withholding laughter, the albino took the remote control from him and pressed the start button. He kept hold of the remote until everything was set up before he handed it back over to the Austrian. "Just shoot the zombies when they come at you and don't die," he said, giving very vague directions.

Roderich blinked a few times as he stared at the screen. They were standing in the foyer of a worn-down building. Two staircases lead to the upstairs. There were several areas around them that were boarded up. He could not see these "Nazi zombies" that Gilbert had been taking about so he fiddled with the remote. One of the joysticks allowed him to move and he figured out the other one changed his perception of the world around him. Hearing a few noises start up near him, he adjusted the screen so that it was at the proper angle for him to see what was going on instead of gazing at the floor. Roderich saw a group of yellow eyed zombies breaking boards to come toward him. He started to hit buttons to the point that it could be called button mashing, but he could not hit a thing. As he tried to move and adjust his screen at the same time, he was quickly attacked by a few zombies and then killed.

Glancing over at the other half of the television screen, Gilbert saw that Roderich's side had gone red. He quickly returned his attention to his own side as he shot a few more zombies. "Jeez, Specs, you're dead already?"

The person in question slanted his lips. "So it would seem..."

Gilbert laughed before he flipped through the options menu to restart the game. "I'll restart it so that you can try and catch up to my awesomeness again."

Roderich sighed, not even gracing that comment with comeback. He picked his remote up again off his lap as he waited for the game to begin again. There was another laugh from the albino as it finally loaded and they were back in the foyer waiting for the undead Nazis to come for them.

* * *

><p>"I'm going to let you go for a bit, <em>mi tomate<em>," Antonio told him.

Lovino stared up at him. There was fear in his honey colored eyes, but he quickly covered it up with his usual attitude. "What? You wanna watch me fall on my ass?"

The Spaniard chuckled and shook his head. "No, I just want to skate around. You'll be all right." He gave Lovino a reassuring smile before letting go of his hand. Antonio pushed off before skirting around the rink.

The Italian bit heavily into his lip. He could do this without Antonio's help. He didn't _need_ the Spaniard in the first place. With that thought in mind, he started to slip forward. He made it about six feet before his arms started to wave as if he were trying to fly. It righted him for a moment so that he would not fall on his face. Seconds later though, he tumbled backward. His back hit hard against the ground before his head slammed against it as well. "Shit!" he shouted before crumpling with his hands against his throbbing head.

"Lovi!" Antonio called in worry. He skated over to his date before slowing to a halt. He offered him a hand up.

"I don't need your damn help," Lovino growled. He started to stand up on his own, only to fall back down again on his rear. "Fuck!"

Chuckling softly, Antonio took both of the Italian's hands before pulling him up on his feet. The Italian protested and snatched his hands out of the other man's grasp. He was determined to learn to do this with minimal help.

As he rolled away, he actually managed to keep steady. His usual grumpy exterior softened as he noticed this. He leaned his weight just enough to each side as he pushed off from his feet. Once he had started to get the hang of it, arms waving only a few times as he caught himself before stopping all together, he tried to turn his attention away from his feet. Lovino saw Feliciano coming by. The younger brother found himself unable to stop though so as he started to fall near Lovino, he set a hand to his brother's shoulder to steady himself. It ultimately took both of them to the ground. "Dammit Feliciano!" Lovino roared.

"I'm sorry, _Fratello_..." Feliciano said with a sniffle. He lay on top of his brother. Setting his hands to either side of his brother's head, he started to sit up. Unfortunately, the old gravity defying curls on their head had tangled.

"Move it!" the older brother shouted, struggling to push his brother away. He had flushed in embarrassment.

"I am," the younger brother protested. He started to untangle their hair curls before he sat up. It did not occur to him to actually get off his brother though so he was simply sitting on his brother's stomach. He could not stand up on his own though so he had to wait until Ludwig had come over to them.

"Are you all right?" Ludwig asked as he stopped. He offered a hand to Feliciano before easily pulling him up.

"Ve~ I am now," Feliciano declared. The German's face heated as he took the words a different way than Feliciano had meant them. He had taken it as 'I'm all right now that you're here' while Feliciano had meant it to be 'I'm all right now that I'm standing'.

Lovino grumbled under his breath once he could breath properly. He felt that his brother really needed to lay off the _gelato_. Although, Feliciano was surprisingly skiny despite his habit of overeating until he gave himself a stomach ache.

Seeing a hand offered to help him up as well, Lovino pushed it away. He shakily rose to his own feet successfully. "_Vaffanculo!_" he growled before storming off the rink to go sit down.

Antonio blinked a few times. He was able to understand that he had been yelled at, but not what it was that his date had told him.

"_Fratello_!" Feliciano declared with a gasp. He skated after his brother then, leaving Ludwig and Antonio the only two on the rink.

The younger Italian saw his brother sitting in one of the metal chairs at one of the tables. He had taken off his roller skates and they sat discarded next to him. His arms were crossed as he stubbornly stared at nothing. Feliciano did not want to see Lovino so upset. He was on a date with Antonio; he should have been happy! In an attempt to cheer his brother up, Felicano set into motion his hug therapy.

"Get off me and go the hell away!" Lovino shouted. He set a hand to his brother's face in an attempt to push him away. The arms that had wrapped around him from behind did not move though. "I said get off!"

When his brother still refused to release him, Lovino rose from the seat he was in. Feliciano released him immediately in hopes that he might have cheered up, but he had only stood up to move away from Feliciano. He took another seat far away from his brother as he left his skates where they were. Hearing his brother slip away to return to the rink, he let out a 'hmph' that was meant to say 'good riddance'.

Little did he know that his brother had not actually given up on brightening his mood. Feliciano had retreated merely to receive back up after explaining to Antonio with his usual wild and purely Italian gestures that his brother was still upset.

The discarded skates in his hands, Antonio knelt down beside Lovino. He stared up at the pouting brunette who had yet to pay him any mind before calling his name. "What the hell do you want?" Lovino growled.

"Will you quit your adorable pouting and come skate with me some more?" Antonio asked with a smile as he brought attention to the skates as he raised his hands.

"Your not proposing to me, bastard, so quit acting like it," the Italian snapped, reminded of the situation due to how Antonio had knelt down.

The Spaniard frowned for a second. He set the skates down before setting a hand to the table before leaning up to press his lips against Lovino's. Lovino froze, blushing a vibrant tomato red. It took a few seconds for him to return the gesture, but his eyes soon slid closed as he kissed back.

"So cute~" Antonio cooed once he had pulled away to see the bright red heat in his boyfriend's cheeks.

"Shut up and give me my damn skates," Lovino retorted. The ugly white shoes with wheels were handed to him before he snatched them up. Antonio offered to help him put them on, but the idea was pushed aside with the ferocity of the Italian's foul temper. Despite this, he waited for Lovino before he pulled him back out onto the rink to skate for a little while longer.

* * *

><p>The front door of the Beilschmidt opened. Ludwig pulled his keys from the knob before closing the door and pocketing them. Loud shouts could be heard from another room in the house. He silently sighed, wondering what it was that his brother could have done to upset the Austrian.<p>

"That's swindling!" Roderich shouted. His violet eyes had narrowed sharply behind his spectacles as he stared at Gilbert.

Gilbert laughed before wiping fake tears of mirth from beneath his eyes. "Sorry, Roddy, but that's how the game goes. I won the bet fair and square," he said with another snicker.

"No. You had to have cheated. You knew I couldn't play the game well to begin with."

"Then why did you even bother to agree to the bet in the first place, huh? Get too big for your breeches there, eh, priss?"

A small gasp came from the musician in his surprise. He really could not think of a rational reason as to why he had actually agreed to the bet in the first place. It had been illogical to even think that he could have beaten someone who did nothing but play Call of Duty: Black Ops in his free time. "I-I..." he stumbled to speak. When he could not find anything to say, the albino howled with more laughter.

"Vat happened?" Ludwig asked. His arms were crossed in disapproval of the noise, but his eyes had widened at the sight of the video game on the screen. It seemed nothing sort of a miracle that someone as haughty as Roderich would be playing a video game, let alone one filled with meaningless violence.

"Please don't ask..." Roderich muttered in disdain. He rose from the couch after setting the game remote aside before retreating to his room. His fingers twitched subtly, wishing to deliver the anger of their owner onto the ivories of a piano.

* * *

><p>Translation Notes:<p>

_Klavier –_ Piano

_Fratello_ - Brother

_Grazie – _Thank you

_mi tomate – _my tomato

_Fußball – _football (Also known to Americans as soccer.)

_gelato –_ ice cream

_Vaffanculo – _Fuck off (In Hetalia Vol. 1, this was translated to be "Screw you!".)

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

After much deciding and persuasion from a friend (*cough*iDevalu*cough*), I decided to do the date chapter. It ultimately ended up a double date. I think it somehow ended up mostly SpaMano though.

When I decided to have them go to a skating rink, I had just visited one the weekend before. It was tons of fun, but I'd never done it before. To put it in retrospect for you, I based many of Romano's experiences off myself, minus most of the swearing. However, him pouting was my little sister who acts just like him. In that situation, I was Feliciano offering hug therapy until she got up and moved.

I have to thank my supportive friend iDevalu for helping me with Romano's swearing for the first section. I don't usually swear needlessly so I really needed someone to show me how I should portray Romano and his sailor mouth. (Sorry if you didn't care for his excessive swearing, but that's just Romano...) iDevalu also helped me while I was brainstorming and she offered her opinions in places. Onii-san gives you a big hug along with this shout out, Devalu. ^^

Any reviews, praise, hate, constructive criticism, will be taken in stride and greatly appreciated. If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear those too so do not be afraid to put that in your review. Anyway, thank you for reading.


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